Sweet Surrender
by WeBuiltThePyramids
Summary: She smiled, sliding her arms around his neck, her voice low, yet almost flirtatious. "I wouldn't mind being your first, Walter O'Brien."


"Hey," Paige said, standing near the stairs.

Walter smiled at her. "Hey." Noticing the quiet around them, he cocked his head. "Is everyone gone?"

"Yeah. Cabe just left for the night."

"Just give me a minute," he said. He'd pulled off his shirt – it had gotten horribly oil stained during the case – and had tugged an undershirt on in its place. Now he stood in the light, examining a tear he'd just noticed in the shirt and deciding if it was worth fixing or if he should just throw it out. "And I'll walk you to your car."

In the three weeks since he'd confessed his love for her after a case that had prevented the confession in Lake Tahoe, they'd eased into being a couple. Now he could rest his hand on her back as they worked side by side. Now they sat together in the evenings, her head on his shoulder and their fingers linked together as they watched the others goof off. Now he walked her outside to her car – even if she was only parked feet away from the garage entrance, and they kissed goodnight. Sometimes, after they kissed, he leaned forward and kissed her again, something that he knew surprised her, but she never protested.

She crossed the room and slid her arms around him, linking them at the small of his back, and resting her chin on his shoulder. "I don't have to go just yet, do I?"

That was another thing he sometimes forgot – that she was staying later now, just to talk to him, or to curl up next to him on the couch. He liked when she did that. Happy was right – spending time together was nice, even if they didn't have plans. He already knew her well, and she almost knew him better than that, but being in a relationship with her was almost like getting to know her all over again, and he liked it all, from going out to dinner with her to walking by the ocean to staying at the garage.

He slid his arms around her and smiled as she tipped her head back to see him. "You don't ever have to go."

He frowned as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "I mean..." he cleared his throat, "I mean don't ever think I'm kicking you out. Come and go as you please."

"You'd better be careful with those words," she said. "Ralph and I might just end up here all the time."

He knew she was joking.

Paige stretched her lips up and brushed them gently along his. He lowered his head to capture her lips between his own, softly. He loved these slow, intimate kisses they shared when they were alone, especially when they were like this, where he could hold her. He'd recently distinguished the difference between when they were hugging and when they were holding each other. It was a difference that he hadn't realized existed, but he loved both. This though, this was them holding each other. The thought coaxed a pleasant feeling out of his heart that spread throughout his body.

"I love you," he murmured. He didn't say it all the time – at least, not nearly as frequently as Toby told Happy. But she deserved to hear it, especially after he'd so recently tested the limits of her heart by practically tucking her in with another man. The feeling – and identifying it – was so new to him, yet so clear, and as difficult as words were for him, these were words that he enjoyed saying. He _thought_ them _very_ frequently, almost every time he looked at her, and certainly every time she smiled at him or came close.

"I love hearing you say that," she murmured back, pushing her nose into his jaw before transitioning her lips to his neck.

She loved him too – she'd told him that. The first time, Walter had committed that moment to memory, her tone of voice, her expression, the way she slid her hand around the back of his neck. She often responded to him telling her he loved her with reciprocation, and sometimes, like tonight, she told him how happy his words made her. He liked hearing that he could make her happy just by feeling this way.

"Walter?"

"Hmmm?" He blinked, wondering if he'd zoned out. That had happened a couple of times when they were kissing. He would lose awareness of everything but the feel of her lips and her hands and whatever else he had contact with and sometimes she would speak and he'd miss it. When that happened, she'd look at him with amusement, her eyebrows slightly raised.

That wasn't the way she was looking at him now. This look was different. This look sent a shiver – a pleasant one, he noted – down his spine.

"Do you want to...maybe..." she glanced to her left – his right – where his bed was, neatly made from the morning.

They hadn't talked about this, except alluding to it when she suggested that they take their relationship "at whatever pace you're comfortable with." He'd been very glad at the time that she wasn't looking to jump him the first night. As incredibly attracted to her as he was, and as much as he'd thought about it _oh god had he thought about it_ , he was terrified of messing up, of embarrassing himself and of failing her. The extensive research he'd done over the past few weeks told him that was a perfectly normal thing to feel, especially with a new partner, but unlike the men on those forums...

"There uh," he managed, biting his lip and staring into her eyes, "there hasn't been anyone. Before."

Paige didn't look surprised or thrown off, which in turn surprised Walter, though after thinking a moment, he realized that maybe she'd already guessed. After all, he had a fairly extreme touch phobia that even extended to platonic hugs. He'd only briefly dated prior to meeting her, and only once – and again briefly – after that. And he had always hated being exposed, physically and emotionally. But now that she was here, they loved each other, and the suggestion had been made, he wished he had more than the internet to go off of. Then he would be more confident in what to do. Then he could, maybe, make this good for her.

She smiled, sliding her arms around his neck, her voice low, yet almost flirtatious. "I wouldn't mind being your first, Walter O'Brien."

He loved the sound of his full name when it was spoken in her voice. He loved it so much he almost hated it. "Society," he said, "society makes such a big deal about the right person, well..." he gave her a small, almost shy smile. "At least with you, that's not called into question."

"I know you're thinking about this logically," she said, her skin flushing, "but that was actually really sweet." She tapped his chest, stepping away from him and grabbing his hands, pulling him toward the bed. He followed her, and she sat down on the edge, near the pillows. Walter wondered if she thought it was weird that he had so many pillows. He didn't used to – but lately, he'd been too uncomfortable sleeping flat on his back.

"If you don't want to yet, just tell me." She squeezed his hand, rubbing her thumb over him. "Just because I'm communicating to you that I want to doesn't mean _you_ have to want to."

He wanted to. If he told her how much he'd thought about this, imagined this, she would probably be pretty taken aback. "I do." He glanced down at his knees. "I just don't know _what_ to do." He didn't clarify – he knew she understood that he wasn't asking about the basic process.

"We'll both be okay," she said reassuringly. "We'll keep the communication open, okay? Talk to me. I'll talk to you." She kissed him gently, then slowly undid one of the buttons on her shirt. "You know," she said, undoing another button as Walter watched, unable to shift his eyes anywhere else, "it's been a really long time since I've been with someone like this. So I'm a little nervous too." Another button. He could see her bra. "But I know this will be good, you know why?"

Walter hoped that he said _why_ instead of _bra_. He looked up at her in alarm, and relaxed when the expression on her face suggested that he had responded appropriately to her question.

"Because you love me. And I love you. And it's _our_ first time." She leaned over, planting a kiss on his neck before undoing another button. "Lay down."

He did, and she scooted around him, onto the middle of the bed, still working the last button on her shirt.

Shrugging it off, leaned down to kiss him again and then she reached behind her, undoing her bra and letting it fall. She seemed pleased at the expression on his face as he took her in, and a small – barely noticeable – smile came over her face. Laying down, she wiggled close to him, putting her hands on his face and taking his bottom lip between her own. He kissed her back, a hand running along her skin, not being able to explore her the way he wanted because of how she was pressed against him, but not complaining about her proximity. The skin on her back was smooth, and he liked being able to put his hand right against it, without clothing in between. She made a quiet little sound deep in her throat as she wiggled even closer, pressing her breasts against him – and this time, his undershirt was irritatingly in the way. Even before she pressed her chest against Walter's, it hadn't escaped him that she was naked from the waist up and he was comparatively fully clothed – he wondered if he should stop kissing her and remove something, or if she was doing this on purpose, exposing herself first to make him feel safer.

She slid her hands beneath his undershirt, her fingers flexing over his muscles, and he kissed her more deeply, putting a hand on one of her wrists and trying to focus her attention on their lips. He was starting to get hard, and he felt a flash of embarrassment – they'd only been kissing for a minute or two. But the anticipation that came from them lying in bed together, Paige's state of undress, and his feelings for her were overpowering. He knew she noticed, and experienced a rush of relief when she didn't laugh at him, only scooted impossibly closer.

He knew he needed to find a way to not be embarrassed. If he was uncomfortable with her feeling him through his pants, they weren't going to get much farther tonight.

But his nerves were getting the best of him. He was afraid of not performing well for her. He was afraid of being vulnerable. He trusted her completely, but losing control still wasn't something that was easy for him. As she continued kissing his neck, he placed a hand on the back of her head and blew out a long, nervous breath, trying to will himself to relax.

She pulled back, placing a finger on the crook in his chin. "Don't be nervous, Walter," she said with a smile. "Lay back and scoot up against the pillows."

He did as she asked, propping himself up in a reclined sitting position. "O-okay."

She eased into his lap, placing her hands on his face. He kissed her deeply, pulling her closer and rolling her bottom lip between his. Her breasts pressed against his chest and her hips gripped his almost like a vice, and she was just so close to him; he moaned quietly, unsure himself if because of the physical or emotional stimulation, and slid a hand up into her hair again. He usually hated touch – any attempts at this kind of touch in the past had made him incredibly uncomfortable.

But this touch was different – hers was a touch that he wanted – and the longer they kissed like this, the more he found himself relaxing. "Contact" went both ways, and he enjoyed touching her. He liked feeling her body heat through her clothes when he hugged her. He liked her head nestled into his shoulder. And he liked the feel of her as she straddled him and let her hips press down on him.

She rose up slightly, on her knees, and he lowered his lips to one of her breasts, his tongue running along the side. He knew from when his thumb had brushed the side of one of them the previous week and her eyes had fallen closed, a breathy sigh escaping her lips, that she definitely wasn't one of those women that didn't get much out of breast stimulation. His observation was reaffirmed tonight as she made a contented sound into his ear, more of an audible sigh than a moan. Walter was pleased at that reaction. He did the same thing again, feeling one of her hands slide into his hair. She'd been proactive earlier, running her hands over him, kissing him, but she'd gone nearly still as Walter continued to experiment with her breast. He placed his lips around her – on the other side, still avoiding the nipple – and traced the oval made by his lips with his tongue. It was an experiment only, but she jerked and squeaked, gripping him tighter, and he raised his eyebrows. She liked that. He could do that again.

He closed his eyes and repeated the action and she whimpered again, still fairly quiet, and she leaned into him, her breath hot against his scalp. Walter wasn't sure at all how to continue. She was clearly completely receptive to what he was doing, but he'd never done this before. He decided repetition was probably best – find something that worked, and do that for a while. He tightened his arms around her and licked alongside her breast again, a steady motion, a steady rhythm, feeling her tremble and gasp and push herself against his mouth. She croaked something – he couldn't make it out – then she grabbed one of his hands and drew it up to her other breast before replacing her hands around his head. He followed her silent instructions, wondering if what she'd tried to say to him a moment earlier had been verbal ones. He kept slowly licking, his hand gently massaging her other breast with the same gentleness as his mouth, enjoying the sounds coming from her, feeling how heavily she was breathing. She was completely at his mercy and he was _loving_ it.

He ran his thumb over her nipple while his tongue finally teased the other one, touching her lightly, then more firmly, and then his mouth closed around it, pressing the smooth bottom of his tongue against her before switching back to the rougher top.

"G - _ah_ ," Paige grunted, and so he did it again, his hand squeezing her gently, his other one pressed against her back to help stabilize her. He was surprised at how responsive she was, rocking against him, but he certainly wasn't complaining. He'd seen Paige Dineen happy, shy, angry, scared, a ton of other emotions, but he'd never experienced her like this. And he was really enjoying her like this.

"Don't stop; I'm close," she whispered between moans, her fingers twisting his hair.

 _Close_? He knew what she was telling him, but for a moment, he didn't believe it. It had been maybe five minutes – he thought this was just _foreplay_. Walter switched his mouth to her other breast and shifted his hands so he could stimulate the one his mouth had just been paying attention to. Closing his lip around her other nipple, he sucked lightly, hearing a breathy _yes_ from Paige and using the arm that was around her to pull her even closer. He wondered if he needed to do something different to get her there, if this would just keep her on the brink. But her moans were steadily growing more frequent, he heard another _yes_ , and he kept rubbing her nipple, his tongue circling her other one. He flicked his tongue and she moaned, and it caught, replaced with a sharper sound, and she shuddered before slumping against him, gasping, dropping her hips back down to his and resting her chin on his shoulder. He slid both arms back around her, holding her tight.

She leaned back after a minute, looking at him with a light, happy grin on her face. She leaned in to kiss him. " _That_ never happened to me before," she said, sliding her arms around his neck, pressing her forehead to his as she continued to smile broadly, as if on a high.

He didn't know how to respond – he hadn't known that that _could_ happen, and he was the first to manage it for her, completely by accident. He'd thought this was just foreplay, helping her warm up; when she'd told him she was _close_ it had startled him. And now she was almost giddy, looking at him with such love and affection in her eyes that it was almost overwhelming. He assumed a lot of hormonal factors went into how far a woman could get on just the stimulation of her breasts – and he actually thought he remembered someone on the forums saying just that – but as he kissed her again, his confidence was boosted at the knowledge that _Drew hadn't been able to do that_ , and she put both hands on the side of his face, kissing him back tenderly.

After a minute, Paige eased him back against the pillows and slowly, tantalizingly, began to rub her hips over his, making him grunt and move his hands down, wanting to hold her there. She let him, pressing herself down, and a moan caught in his throat as he helped her remove his shirt. She leaned forward then, pressing her lips to his throat and running her hands over his stomach again. He was pleased when she settled back down and ground her pelvis against his, only their clothes separating them.

Then, she swung a leg over and was off of him, kneeling on the mattress, and he grunted again, agitated. But she wiggled out of her jeans and underwear, tossing them aside, then pausing to look at him. He didn't notice at first; he was too busy taking her in, the stretch marks his fixation with her breasts hadn't allowed him to notice earlier, the tiny scar on her hip that he'd had no idea existed, the slight dark discoloration on her skin that suggested that the panties she'd just shed were new and hadn't gone through the washer and dryer yet.

The little things about her that some might see as imperfect were some of the things that made Paige Dineen Paige Dineen. The supposed flaws were part of what made her so wonderful, and Walter _hated_ himself for allowing Tim Armstrong to tell her that first.

"You look nice," he managed, knowing there were better words to use but reverting to one he'd used before, one he felt safe with, ones that he could use while knowing exactly what he was saying because his brain did not currently have first access to his blood supply.

"Thank you," she said, her tone flirtatious. She crawled back to him and then reached for the button on his pants, her fingers working deftly. He lifted his hips as she tugged them down his legs. She reached for his boxers and hesitated, looking in his eyes. "Is this all okay?"

He answered her by removing the boxers himself, glad to be rid of them. Then, Paige put her hands on both his shoulders and swung her leg back over him, keeping her hips off his, kissing him soundly once again. Then, she slowly lowered herself, reaching a hand down to begin to guide him inside her. She kissed him again, gently, her other hand coming up to caress his face. "Let me know if you want to stop, okay?"

Walter nodded. He wanted to thank her – he knew that with her words and actions Paige was trying to calm his nerves, trying to make sure he knew he was safe. It wasn't necessary. She was his shelter. He trusted her with everything. But as she slowly sank onto him, as he watched her take him in, as they crossed that line and he felt her around him for the first time he doubted he could have formed a coherent sentence if his life depended on it.

She began to move, riding him slowly, running one hand over his abdomen and the other lightly brushing his nipples as she ground her hips in circular motions before beginning to move up and down. His breath caught, his hands flat on the bed as he thrust up to meet her. The first few minutes were awkward; they were out of sync and started and stopped several times in an attempt to find a rhythm, in a very adult version of Brynner and Kerr's _Shall We Dance_ before they fell into unison. She shifted her position and he sank even deeper, causing a moan to unexpectedly escape his lips. He'd thought it felt good before, when they were comparatively fumbling.

"Oh God," Paige gasped, her eyes falling closed and her hands pressing hard against his skin. She dropped her head and kissed his neck, sucking just where she knew she could get a reaction, driving her hips forward and down, and Walter reacted – by gently pushing her back.

"Paige, stop."

She stilled immediately, lifting her hips up almost completely off of him, which he definitely did not want. " _No_ ," he said, grabbing them, trying to guide them back down, and she slowly lowered herself back onto him, her head cocked in questioning. Walter closed his eyes, raising a hand to ask for a moment. _Why, why, why._ She knew he hadn't done this before, but Walter was still embarrassed that it had only been a couple of minutes. "Just...just a moment."

"Okay." She ran a hand gently through his hair, over his ear, to his jawline, and leaned forward, kissing him sweetly, reassuringly. "I was going too fast. I'm sorry." He opened his eyes and she smiled at him, her thumb rubbing his cheek. "You just feel really good."

"You do too," he said, an embarrassed smirk coming over his face. "That's...that's the issue."

She giggled, kissing him again. "Just let me know when you're okay."

"I am."

"Alright," Paige said with a smile. "Sit up."

He wasn't _flat_ on his back, but he did as she suggested, and she shifted her position, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling him close so their torsos touched. She kissed him again, remaining still, a hand around the back of his head. He kissed her back, sliding his arms around her.

"I love you," she whispered between kisses, slowly beginning to roll her hips again. Their close proximity meant less movement was possible, and they rocked together, lips locked, her arms curled intimately around his neck.

His hands had been resting on her hips, but he wrapped them around her, removing his mouth from hers to bump her chin with his nose. Somehow understanding, she tipped her head back and he kissed her on the throat, his lips finding their way around her neck to just below her right ear, and he took the soft skin there between his lips, sucking and hearing her gasp. When he removed his lips, a mark remained, and he briefly wondered how they were going to explain that to the rest of the team.

Even with their positioning, it wasn't more than another minute or two before Paige was panting hard, as if she was putting out a considerable effort to keep going slow. She kissed his neck again, one of her thumbs sliding over one of his nipples, changing her pace to one that almost seemed franti and making him moan, loudly, his hips bucking up against her. " _Paige_." Walter could feel the tension rapidly building in his groin; he was very near a point where he wouldn't be able to stop himself.

"I'm sorry," she whispered against his cheek, her voice sounding frantic as her hips continued to rock. "I'm sorry, I can't, you feel too good, I – I can't..." Her legs tightened around him and he heard her grunt, heard her breathing through her teeth as her thrusts momentarily slowed. The effort she was putting out to fight the sensations their bodies were creating distressed him – especially since he knew she was trying to do it to help him last. She tipped her head back, her eyes closed. "Oh my God."

He wanted to tell her to stop fighting it, to encourage her as she'd been doing for him, but he couldn't find the words. After a half dozen more frantic thrusts, Paige managed to come to a stop, her breath hot against his neck, his hot in her hair. "I'm sorry," she said again, trembling around him from the effort of keeping still.

"No," he said desperately, grabbing her hips and moving them for her as best he could. "Don't stop."

"But you're gonna..."

"So are you, Love," he said pointedly, deciding as soon as the term of endearment left his lips that he liked it. He was going to keep using it.

He leaned back slightly, on his hands, thrusting up to meet her. She moaned loudly, reaching up with both hands to fling her hair back behind her head, out of her eyes.

 _God damn,_ she looked beautiful right then.

Leaning the rest of the way back – into the half seated position created by the pillows, Walter reached forward, rubbing his fingers against her, slowly, then with more aggression as he heard his name. She jerked hard against him, taking him in as deeply as he'd been before once, twice, three times, and then he felt her pulsing around him, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, it had to be nine times, and she went nearly limp, collapsing forward onto his chest, gasping. He sat them up, drawing her face up so he could kiss her and she slid her arms around his neck. "Finish," she managed in a whisper, rocking her hips against his again in encouragement.

It was too much.

Walter lurched, rolling them over and pinning her down. Their bodies had separated with the motion, and he reached down, using his fingers to make room as he plunged back inside her and he thrusted forcefully, deeply, as far as he could go. " _Paige_ ," he managed against her neck, his mouth half open, the feeling so intense it nearly hurt. It was less than twenty seconds more before his hips grew frantic, erratic, and he exploded, moaning loudly into her ear as he pushed his hips forward, against hers, and held them there. They both gasped, their chests heaving as they struggled to get their breathing back to normal.

"Oh my God," Paige managed again. One of her hands rubbed his back, up and down over his shoulder, while the other rested on the back of his head, holding it against her neck. "I've got you," she whispered, keeping her legs wrapped around him. She cradled him protectively, giving him that gentle, comforting touch that made everything okay.

"I love you," he said into her ear. "You're incredible." He felt like a cliché. He didn't care. She _was_ incredible.

Walter wanted to stay right where he was, his weight on her, her arms and legs holding him in place, but he was heavier than she was and right now he knew he had to feel almost like dead weight. He lifted his weight off of Paige and collapsed against the mattress next to her, a hand splaying over her abdomen, tracing her stretch marks.

Her eyes were closed, her body nearly limp, and she tipped her head in his direction, that same almost goofy smile on her face. "Walter."

He grinned himself, leaning over and kissing her right on that smile. She opened her eyes to look at him, and she giggled. "Your lips are so red."

"Yours are too," he said, reaching out and touching them lightly with a little finger. She raised a hand to the mark on her neck he'd left earlier, seemingly just realizing how sensitive it still was. "Oh my God," she said. She couldn't see it, but he could tell by the tracing she was doing with her finger that she knew exactly where it was. "How many of these did you give me?"

"Just that one," he said. "I mean...I mean, other than those." He gestured to her breasts. Those she could see, and her eyes widened, but when she looked back at him, her expression was almost playful. " _Walter. O. Brien_." He grinned as she rolled closer to him. "You are awful."

"You didn't sound like I was awful." He was surprised that those words came out of his mouth. The success of the night had clearly emboldened him.

"I'd be embarrassed if you hadn't been so vocal yourself," she teased, her face quickly changing to one of concern, and he realized the self – conscious feeling _he_ began experiencing at her words was evident on his face. "Don't," she said reassuringly, kissing him quickly. "I like hearing you moan. That makes me feel good."

It was a concept he certainly understood.

An unpleasant feeling began to interrupt his high. Walter knew it was getting late, and that any moment Paige would have to excuse herself to go home. He knew he would see her again in the morning. But even before they'd began to date, even before he knew he loved her, his least favorite part of the day was when she left the garage. Now, the idea of being so intimate with her and then being left all alone in this garage, this place that was so different to him now, felt almost like torture.

"I do need to get home," she said, what felt like not a minute later, and his heart sank even father. "Ralph will be wondering where I am, and he's not old enough to spend the night by himself yet."

Walter understood. He still hated it. But what came out of his mouth instead was the word _stay._

"Walter, I _can't_." She kissed him. "I want to. But I'll see you in the morning."

" _No_." He pulled her closer. Now he was embarrassed, acting like a desperate lover who couldn't deal with being apart from her for just a few hours. But at this moment, it really felt like he couldn't. "Please don't. Not yet, I..." he tucked his face into the crook of her neck, breathing her in. "I always hate it when you leave."

It was an odd role reversal. But then again, they'd been doing that all night.

She let him hold her like that for a minute or so, then she leaned back, making eye contact. "I don't want to leave," she told him. "I want you to hold me and kiss me and I want to do what we just did again but _Ralph is at home_."

"One day," Walter said, "maybe you won't have to leave."

It was a forward suggestion, but Paige smiled. "Or maybe we'll leave together." She nuzzled his nose with her own. "Maybe this weekend, Ralph can stay with Sylvester." Her gaze was affectionate, loving, and she placed a hand on the side of his face. "I look forward to falling asleep in your arms, Walter O'Brien."


End file.
